


Ashes of love

by AlesiaM



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dresses, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Sex, Slow Burn, Stockings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-12-28 12:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21136352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlesiaM/pseuds/AlesiaM
Summary: AU, where Victor Nikiforov stores at home not only a collection of gold medals, but also something worse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my language. But I like to try new things and share my stories. I do not know what will come of it, but I hope to please you. Translates google :)))

All this has been a hundred times. Dear club, VIP-zone, easy transient acquaintance. He does not even need to do anything. They do everything themselves: an almost casual acquaintance, a couple of cocktails, flirting, delicious sex in a cheap hotel room and the beaten-up “will you call me?”

Naive fools. But Victor likes this game. Why not. He will play.

Here is another pretender sitting next to me now. Tall brunette in a closed and short dress. Nikiforov looks at her legs. Beautiful, slender, in stockings in a large mesh. Stockings attract attention, force not to look away. Victor wants to touch them, feel their provocative elasticity under his fingers, slide to the lace, and press his lips to the area of fair skin. They both know this. But the game must go on.

Around reigns twilight, illuminated by flashes of light from the dance floor. Music rattles, soul bass. The girl leans toward him, dousing with the aroma of expensive sweet perfumes. In a magazine they wrote that men like this smell, it causes an irresistible sexual desire. Victor is already sick of him, he feels him from every second. But this is also part of the game. Victor suffers and drinks another cocktail.

It's pretty dark here, but Victor likes the facial features of this girl. Something oriental, soft. Big brown eyes and puffy red lips. The scarlet color emphasizes the beauty of this sinful mouth. The man covers his eyes and imagines the brunette in front of him on her knees with swollen lips, with smeared lipstick marks on them. Gorgeous.  
The girl laughs and tells that he is a longtime fan. Keeps track of all figure skating competitions. Oh, Victor must have a big collection of medals. Will he show her?

\- Сertainly. And not only them, baby. There will be many things tonight that they will show each other. By the way, did you say your name, goddess of the night?

\- Aelita, - sounds soft because of the accent.

Really?

\- Yes, you are just a cosmos, baby! By B-52?

Mental facespalm. What does he carry?

\- Any desire, Victor, any desire.

Yes, she would know about his true desires! Lies and again lies. Not a word of truth. Lies have been enveloping him for a long time, like clubs of bluish smoke in a club. Eaten under the skin. Do not wash off. But they all believe in his integrity. Perfect Victor Nikiforov! The mind, honor and conscience of Russia. Shining on a pedestal - look, so soon a nimbus will appear.

Even his trips to clubs are verified and calculated. Ah, he is a romantic and a womanizer! Will you allow the little star weaknesses?

But he likes this girl. For sale, like everything, but expensive. I would like to take it not on cheap sheets of a provincial hotel, but slowly enjoy in luxury.

They go to him. In a white limo. This is a mistake, but it already bears. Alcohol and desire drown out the arguments of the mind. Victor is completely drunk and unrealistically happy. With Aelita it’s easy and beautiful. I wonder if she already found her soulmate? Suddenly she has the same picture? Stupid kawaii heart. Hi Japan! However, it doesn’t matter.

They drink champagne, the brunette laughs and talks a lot. She wants to learn so much about him, about the five-time champion.

And he just won’t tell! Give an advance. Victor is at her feet in one motion. Wonderful legs. It concerns. Stroking ankles. He throws one leg over his shoulder, looks into the frightened-puzzled amber eyes. He caresses, gently slides his fingers along the bends of the foot. Kisses the arch and goes to the bone. He never considered himself a fetishist, but, God, these legs! Nikiforov is ready to cover every centimeter with kisses, which, in general, he does. Kisses, feeling a slight trembling under the fingers.

His girl is no longer laughing. Looks amazingly from under long eyelashes. It burns with a golden eye. Its lunar turquoise against amber gold. Come on, show me your Eros, surprise me! And they hear him. Something is subtly changing in that face. Lust, passion, desire. A sweet madness split in two tonight. They are kissing. Long and frantic. Victor kisses as for the last time, drops his lips to thin skin on an elegant neck. And he hears sweet, stifled moans, full of desire.

But they have already arrived. Victor remembers and feels everything with some kind of flash. Perhaps one of the cocktails was superfluous. They are at his house. Nobody will disturb them here. You can fully enjoy this sweet body. In confirmation, he puts the girl’s hand on his groin, rubs against her. But Aelita is slipping away.

Beckons, calls, seduces. She looks gorgeous, divine on his bed. Victor takes pictures. And do not care that for some reason it is very dark here, the light falls only on a flickering monitor. He must capture, capture this beauty. And the girl knows her job: beautifully bends, poses, lures. And Victor simply burns out in the fire of desire that has enveloped his whole soul and body, becomes ash at the feet of his new deity.

***

A young dark-haired man sits in front of the monitor. Fingers slide quickly and easily around the keyboard, and your face is focused on the screen. I really want to smoke, drag on the whole depth of my lungs. This can be dangerous, and there is no time now. A man glances at a body that has spontaneously collapsed on a bed. Victor will not wake up soon. That rubbish that he put in his club would be enough for two. He was too afraid that he would not affect the athlete's body.

Well, hello, Victor Nikiforov. Let me introduce myself - Gadfly. Oh, did you hear about me? One of the most scandalous journalists? What are you! You have been deceived. The most expensive and scandalous. Do you know how much they pay me? For digging in this dirty laundry? Everyone has their dirty secrets and secrets. I am always responsible for the accuracy of the information provided. Confidential Information. And I'm sorry, nothing personal. I even liked you, appreciated my stockings, but work, you understand.

Gadfly had already checked Victor’s phone and was now downloading files from a computer. What naivety, just hide folders! It’s ridiculous. I just didn’t want to laugh at all, and my throat was terribly raw and squeezed from incomprehensible emotions. The brunette went away from the table and bent over Victor. How much will they pay him for the photo tag of the most coveted bachelor of Russia? The man looks fascinated at the incredibly sweet heart on the athlete's left chest. Мarks were considered quite personal and intimate, they can’t be shown like that. Only a person whom you trust endlessly, your soul mate, to confirm the union created by nature itself. Everyone thinks that Nikiforov has skates or a snowflake. But no. Kawaii heart. Fuck!

You know, photos and videos from a computer are no less interesting. Yes, you are full of surprises, Nikiforov! I would be directly surprised if I had not seen such stories a hundred times. Yes, you are the boys. In the literal sense. How old is that charming blond? Too, I would even say criminally little. And why hide the face under a mask? Vitya, Vitya ... You know that you cannot confuse this platinum of hair with anything. Or is it for the entourage? Yes, I'll see you like dirty sex. Do you like harder? Well, rejoice, soon you will be so fucking with everything that you did not even dream of.

The Gadfly throws everything into a bag: a voice recorder, a flash drive, a camera - then it will figure it out. There is no power to stay here, as if the air itself was poisoned in this room. Nikiforov is a nasty man, but why then does Gadfly hurt so much?


	2. Chapter 2

Cold salty spray settles on the face. Yuuri feels the taste of the ocean on her lips. Today, it is restless. Dark hungry waves lick the sandy beach, taking with them small pebbles. Even the usual cries of gulls are not heard. Gusts of cold wind blow it through, even the blue down jacket does not save. Soon the weather will completely deteriorate and will have to return home to the sources. But while he still has time. The guy absently observes the change of colors in a stormy sky. Gloomy gray clouds creep low, threatening to spill streams of water at any moment.

Gloomy and gray. Like his soul. Only this storm will pass, and the ocean will calm down, and Yuuri will never find peace. The whole soul to shreds and smithereens. Do not glue and save. And he did all this himself.

I don’t feel like going home. He was already used to lying that he was doing well. It is as natural and habitual as getting up in the morning, brushing your teeth, and dressing. Lying becomes his second nature. It is so nice to wrap yourself in it and isolate yourself from the rest of the world. Interestingly, will he ever believe in his own happiness? Parents believe, in any case, he hopes so. But whether Phichita succeeds is a question.

Phichit Chulanont appeared at the sources a week ago, came to visit a friend. That is him, Yuri Katsuki. Burst into a small local typhoon in his measured and empty life.

"Yuuri, smile! I take pictures of you! ”

"Yuuri, we're going to the club!"

"Yuuri, you have to watch me skate!"

"Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri ..."

Yuuri smiles and agrees. And the club, and in the photo. But he doesn’t go to the rink, he can’t force himself. The smell of ice is physically bad, and the sound of skates just kills.

And now, his friend says something with enthusiasm, calls to the club.

\- Yuuri, you have to go! Well, you don’t go to the skating rink, - an outright insult sounds in the Thai’s voice - but you can go to the club. How much can you sit at home! Your mom told me everything. You will never meet your soulmate, Yuuri! Unless, of course, he’s not a locksmith or a pizza delivery man. But this is unlikely. Not everyone is so lucky that you know.

Dear, dear Phichit!

\- I don't need a soulmate. Тill. - Yuuri picks ramen with chopsticks, avoiding meeting his eyes with a friend. - Yes, and everything is fine with communication. Recently, I have to work hard. I often go to Tokyo on business.

\- So you were joking now? Yuuri, what are you talking about? Soulmate is the same part of your soul! The one who always understands and supports, will accept you, - Phichit looks at him in amazement. - This is the greatest gift! You can't say that. You have no right.

And what can be answered if the truth is impossible?

Phichit walks around the room excitedly, trying to say something, but emotions overwhelm him. Finally, the guy calms down a bit and sits down next to Yuri. Holds the hand. The Japanese feels the warmth of the fingers of others, a friendly squeeze.

\- Yuuri, what happened to you? I just don't recognize you. You are like in a shell, and no matter how much I call, I cannot reach out. You're ruining yourself here. Closed from the whole world.

And what happened to him? Soul to shreds; lies strewn with golden blades of skates.

\- I know you. You loved journalism so much! I know your nickname. So what? What happened to my friend over these three years? - Phichit knows where to push. Their friendship is that little that still supports Yuuri afloat, does not allow to become completely closed in itself. - Is it because of that thing? Because of Nikiforov?

\- I don’t understand what you mean.

\- Your last order, Yuuri. You left everything after him? Escaped. Listen, whatever happens to you with Nikiforov, I will always be by your side. This villain got what he deserved.

\- He was acquitted. Could not prove anything.

\- No smoke without fire. You saw those photos and videos! What does he do on them! All newspapers later printed.

\- We are not punished for the enthusiasm of BDSM yet.

\- A blond?

\- Similar to Plisetskiy? Just a guy. Everything is there by agreement.

\- There were a lot of guys! ..

\- Well, he loves boys! Forbidden ?!

\- You protect him! ..

\- He's my soulmate!

God, the clock always ticked so loud in this room ?!

\- What? .. But how? Yuuri ...

And Yuuri can’t answer anything. He just cries, covering his face with his hands. For too long he was silent, for too long kept this pain in himself. And now all the bitterness of the wounded heart came out with bitter tears.

\- I ... - Yuuri grips her friend's hand tightly, as if seeking support. - I didn’t know then. That I ... That we are with him ... I felt that everything was not so, but I could not understand. Mark, she then showed up. When they already nibbled him. And ... Phichit, it's because I destroyed everything. His life, career. Yet then they wrote about him, they poured so much dirt. These courts.

\- But he was not sinless.

\- But not to blame! - the voice breaks from surging emotions, from the pain that has been accumulating in his heart for months. - I shot him a tag. Everyone saw her! Can you imagine? It’s like exposing a soul! And I did it myself. - Yuuri looks at his trembling hands. Hands of a traitor. - And he held on. Even then. And then ... I do not know how this happened. They started to post it, well, there are all kinds of memcos. And in Barcelona? A woman ran up to him. She screamed that his soulmate. She was tearing a blouse on herself, and there was a tattoo. Then we figured it out, but all again, according to Victor.

The silence in the room is stunning. But Yuuri is getting easier. He spoke out, removed at least a little this burden from himself. He does not wait for words of support. He will understand if Phichit leaves, disappointed in him. This is correct.

\- Listen, Yuuri ... I don’t know how to tell you to hear and understand me. All this is a very bad story. And if you say that Nikiforov is not to blame, I believe you. But you cannot be guilty of everything. Be that as it may, but you are his soulmate. You are soul mates, and that means a lot. You cannot live without each other. You have to find him.

\- I can’t. I will have to tell everything. I ... I cannot stand his contempt. Hate.

\- But you cannot kill yourself here too slowly!” You have to trust the connection! - Phichit squeezes his fingers tightly, forcing him to look into his eyes. - Promise me, please. For the sake of our friendship, for the sake of ourselves and Victor, promise that you will trust the connection. Let her act!

\- I AM…

\- Promise, Yuuri!

\- I agree, Phichit. It is unlikely that this will fix anything, but I promise.

Phichit hugs a friend, holds him tightly by the sharp protrusions of his shoulders, trying to at least slightly support, share inner warmth, warm this freezing soul, give strength to move on.

And Yuuri is immensely grateful to him. Maybe everything is not so bad in this world if he has such a friend.


	3. Chapter 3

It was always the same dream. Time after time. Endless repetition chain. Sleep could begin in different ways. Sometimes Yuuri sat with friends in a bar, sometimes he simply walked alone along the street - as a result, he always ended up in this room. He does not need to look around to understand where he is. And he is unlikely to see anything. The room is too dark. The only light comes from the flickering laptop monitor. Yuuri gets up from the table and turns on a small sconce. He could have turned on the whole world, but the twilight calms, creates a certain illusory defense. Nothing ever changes here. His personal hell.

Yuuri feels the usual pain in her legs. Leans over and takes off his shoes. An elegant means of execution with 12 centimeter heels flies to the side. He is even a little sorry, Victor liked these shoes. With memories of Victor's kisses goosebumps run down his spine.

Yuuri walks up to the mirror. The mirror surface reflects a tall brunette in a black shiny dress. Aelita. Yuri always looks with disdain on her bright makeup, false eyelashes, bright red lips. Sometimes it does not stand up and starts to erase it, leaving bright ugly stripes on the skin. Spit.

Then he goes to Victor's bed. It is always painful and scary to look at a limp body. Blond sleeping, pumped up with tranquilizers. Yet Yuuri always checks to see if he is alive. He puts his ear to his broad chest, listens to the measured beat of his soulmate’s heart. Sometimes he lies like this all night, sometimes he just sits nearby, fingering the platinum of his hair. Now he just admires him, easily touches, outlining the bend of his eyebrows with his fingertips, graceful cheekbones, desired lips. Victor is always sleeping. And Yuuri, to madness, wants to look into his eyes, to plunge again into the boundless blue of the ocean.

Katsuki does not know which demons heard his prayers. But Victor opens his eyes, looks straight into the soul, coldly and inevitably:

\- I will find you!

***

Yuuri throws out of his own dream. For a while, he simply lies, trying to control a frantically beating heart. Not enough breath. What was that? Never in three years did Nikiforov wake up. Will he find him? Yuuri has a metallic taste of fear in her mouth. Who does Victor want to find? The Gadfly that ruined his life, the lecherous Aelita or Yuuri, his soulmate? He thinks about it until the first pink glare of dawn begins to creep around the room.

The young man rubs his eyes and incredulously looks at the landscape outside the window. Snow? In april? Blooming sakura, strewn with snow, is another picture. But be that as it may, he will have to remove it all. Nobody canceled work in the ryokan.

His day is always scheduled. Today it is snow removal, then cleaning in the onsen itself, then you need to help your sister with hotel rooms, and then mother with the cooking. Time to rest appeared rather rarely. And now, Katsuki settled down for a while at the table with a plate of his beloved Katsudon, absent-mindedly listening to the conversations around.

\- Did you see how handsome he is? - quietly mother's voice attracts attention. - Something is in these foreigners. What a shade of hair! Although they look like gray. But he is young at all. About thirty years old.

\- What are you talking about, mom? - Yuuri joins the conversation. He has a personal fetish lately on handsome foreigners with gray hair.

\- Аbout a new guest, I settled today. Russian What is his name? Victor?

It seemed that if the sky itself fell under his feet, Yuuri would have been less surprised:

\- Nikiforov ?!

\- Oh yeah. Nikiforov. Do you know him

Does he know him? Yuri only grabs her mother's jerk.

\- Where is he?..

\- Victor? Yes, at the sources, in the onsen now.

Yuuri no longer hears anything, he runs through the entire onsen and only in the last bath does he notice Victor’s platinum crown. Impossible! Unbelievable! And yet here he is, sitting in front of him at the source, living and real. Yuuri sees his relaxed figure, embossed torso. The embodiment of his nightmares and sweet desires. His personal demon. Victor Nikiforov.

And Victor stares blankly at the guy who flew in to him. Tall, full-bodied Japanese with blue glasses. She looks scared and incredulous. Does he know him? Another fan?

\- Something is wrong? - Victor breaks the long silence.

Finally, the Japanese withers away and nods embarrassedly.

\- Oh no. Everything is in order, I'm sorry, - Yuuri just now notices that he continues to stare at the Russian. But breaking eye contact is not able. - I came to find out if you need anything.

\- Do you work here? - Victor's voice sounds quite friendly.

\- Yes. This is my family ryokan. If you need something - contact. We always welcome guests. I hope that staying in our ryokan will leave only favorable memories.

Yuuri turns around to leave, but Victor suddenly grabs his hand, attracting attention. Long graceful fingers hold unexpectedly tight.

\- What is your name? You did not say.

\- Yuuri. Yuuri Katsuki.

\- And I...

\- Victor Nikiforov. Skater from Russia. I know.

Katsuki still pulls his hand out of tenacious fingers and leaves. Maybe he should be polite to everyone, but this does not mean at all that he will communicate with Victor. Just have to wait. He may well not see him. Can he?

***

Chatting overnight:

\- Phichit!

\- Phichit! He's here! In the ryokan. I saw him today, spoke to him.

\- Who? What are you talking about?

\- Victor. Nikiforov. He's here. Today I arrived and settled.

\- ...

\- This is a connection. I said that she will drive you.

\- I don't know what to do. We talked, but he does not know who I am. I'm scared.

\- Yuuri, stop panicking! He is your soulmate. What are you afraid of?

\- Besides the connection itself? What if he calculated me? Knows that I'm Gadfly. He lifts my legs. He is an athlete. He can.

\- STOP !! Can you hear yourself This is a manifestation of communication. I don’t think it’s because of the Gadfly. He is not the first. No one found. Relax.

\- He sleeps from me through several walls. AS??

\- He came to the springs to relax. Just be Yuuri Katsuki for him. And there it will be seen what he needs. He definitely won’t kill and maim you. Communication will interfere. So keep yourself in control, understand? And write to me.

\- Yes. If you don’t get in touch, you know where to look for me.

\- Yuuri! ..


	4. Chapter 4

However, Yuuri's plans were not destined to come true at all. Victor seemed to be everywhere. Whatever Yuuri did, he always crossed paths with Victor. In addition, he turned out to be one of those harmful guests who cannot be catered for. At first, Marie tried to be helpful, but quickly realized the futility of these attempts and entrusted the care of Victor to her brother. Despite all the objections from the latter.

And Yuuri tried to become as inconspicuous as possible. He sat away from Victor, hid his eyes behind the lenses of his glasses, wore baggy, plain-looking clothes. It was quiet and invisible.

And now he was beating up a futon in Victor’s room. Like every day before.

\- It's all because of a habit. It’s unusual for Europeans to sleep out of bed. Try to treat it like a local flavor. Imagine you are sleeping on a real futon. Wow.

\- Well, I don’t know, - the blond sighs. He sits in a hotel green coat, casually draped over his naked body. The robe slides a bit, revealing a beautiful chiseled shoulder. Victor is in no hurry to correct, and Yuri tries not to look. Honestly. - Probably, this is due to a lack of training. I started myself completely - and now I’m getting nervous.

Yuuri casts an incredulous look at the fit figure of the athlete, trying to notice at least one flaw. Launched? And what then Yuuri say with his love for home cooking.

\- Can I go jogging? Will you keep me company, Yuuri?

\- Thank you, but I have to refuse. Work in onsen requires a lot of effort and time.

\- So what? Together, it’s better to do it. Do you want me to become your personal trainer? I have experience. And it will not hurt you to drop a couple of extra pounds. You look like a little pig.

\- Little pig? .. Victor!

\- Oh, Yuuri! Charming pink piggy! You are so cute, homely and your chubby cheeks are something! It would be so if you hadn’t been hiding from me all over the onsen.

\- Victor, I'm sitting in your room!

\- But not because you yourself came to me! I want to make friends with you, and you avoid me. Ignore it. And don't tell me that I'm wrong. I don’t know what else to think up and break for you to come.

\- I knew that it was no accident, a heavy sigh. - Good. If I run with you in the morning, will you stop crawling with me with petty nitpicking?

\- Yuuri! ..

\- What? I’m tired of changing your curtains, shaking the futon, watching out for a certain type of coffee and the color of the towels. You are a disgusting guest, so you know.

\- You're breaking my heart! ..

\- It's okay! - Yuuri can no longer contain the erupted irritation. - Your heart is being treated perfectly every night in local bars, as far as I can tell.

\- Are you jealous? - Victor at the moment is nearby, raking Yuuri into a tight hug. It burns the skin with hot breath: - Not worth it. I'm all yours, my beautiful Yuuri. Just call me.

\- It sounds somehow cheap, - the words fly off her lips before Yuri can grasp their meaning.

\- Do you think it has fallen into a scandal? Plank fell? Not seductive enough for you? - Katsuki feels the muscles tense on someone else’s body, turning hitherto a gentle hug into a steel trap. Victor sharply turns his back and pushes him toward the mirror, without unclenching his grip. Fingers dig into his hair, pulling painfully, forcing him to look forward. - Well, tell me that in the eye. Now. Here. Say you don't like it.

Victor whispers evilly, sliding his lips around his neck, as if imprinting every word in delicate skin. Fingers still hold tight, forcing them not to look away. All Yuri's feelings are sharpened to the limit. He feels with every cell of Victor's body. Feels his breath on his neck, feels the heat of someone else's body. The blond bites his neck. Either kisses or punishes. Pressed with dry, hot lips to a pulsating vein on his body, depriving him of the ability to think coherently.

\- I see your views ... All so quiet, modest ... but as you look ...

Yuuri melts like wax in someone else's hands, the sounds of her beloved voice penetrate the skin, spreading the heat of a flushed desire through her veins. Intoxicated by this desire, he bends all over, rubs his buttocks on someone else's groin. Victor's greedy, passionate kisses are crazy, but this is already unbearably small. I want a lot more.

\- V-victaar ...

Either a prayer or an appeal. Yuri himself does not know what he wants. Words flutter from his lips in a sweet half-tone, settling in a spicy aftertaste in the silence of the room.

\- ... tell me, Yuuri ...

Victor's hoarse whisper penetrates the guy's blurred mind. Say? .. What? ..

\- I ... stop it!

Like blades of knives. Words strip the connection between them. The blond’s hands hang limply, and Yuuri bounces to the door.

\- What are you doing! Do you think I'm another toy ?! A fan whom only beckon with your finger? I don’t care at all. For all your medals, money, fame. I ... - choking on my own emotions, the Japanese only wave his hand in annoyance. - Not here and not now. Forget it. I will go for a run at seven.

And before the Russian manages to protest at least something, Katsuki leaves the room, proudly squaring his shoulders.

On this day, they no longer intersect. Victor sits in the baths, and Yuuri hides in the kitchen to help his mother.

The next morning I do not want to get up at all. Yuri would give a lot to wallow in bed like this, wrapping himself in a soft blanket until the end of time. Because it's scary. It’s scary to go downstairs and meet Nikiforov. And yet he must. Overcoming reluctance and fear, Yuri crawls out of bed and, after attaching another dimensionless t-shirt, goes down.

Victor is already waiting for him. Rested and refreshed, as if only from a beauty salon. Katsuki is even a little ashamed of his battered appearance. Wishing to hide his embarrassment, he looks at the yellow bicycle in Victor's hands:

\- What is it? We are going to run.

\- Yeah, - Victor smiles at 32, - but you need some special training, Yuuri. So I'm great, and you are catching up from behind. Do not be afraid, I will not go fast.

\- Somehow this sounds unfair, Victor. Don't you find?

\- But-but! - graceful fingers hang in front of his face in a warning gesture. - I, you know, a certified trainer. And you are a chubby pig. So come on, Yuuri. It is only difficult at first, and then it will become easier. You’ll see, you’ll also say thank you to me when I make the Great Ballerina out of you.

The Japanese looks at Victor and completely does not believe in the prima ballerina, nor in his "easier".

And yet they run. Every morning along the promenade. Back and forth. Victor is on a bicycle and Katsuki is out of breath behind. Then they habitually diverge. Victor walks around the city, walks to the local ice rink, wanders along the beach. Yuuri cleans up the onsen, meets guests, cooks in the kitchen. And so on until the evening. Like a weird perverse game. In the evening, Victor goes to the baths. Walking naked, demonstrating the body of Apollo. And Yuuri, of course, does not look. He doesn’t look at this prominent inflated torso, doesn’t look at how water droplets run down it, does not repeat their way through milk skin with his eyes. He doesn't look at all. So much so that once the sister comes up to him and, taking a drag on her cigarette, does not ask what exactly is between him and Nikiforov.

Wanting to escape from these thoughts, Yuuri works as a freelance correspondent in a local newspaper. Articles about the opening of a new store, about the life of fishermen, about a private shelter for dogs. A trifle. But Yuuri likes it. Like this long-forgotten sensation at your fingertips when you write another article. Some excitement, anticipation. How he lacked it!

One of these evenings Nikiforov comes to him. Quietly scrapes through the door until Yuuri lets him in.

\- Yuuri-i! .. I'm bored, - a heavy, heavy sigh. - Oh, do you have a bed? Let's sleep together?

\- Victor, no.

\- You're cruel! ..

\- And you're drunk again! - Yuuri gets up from the table in annoyance, pushing the laptop aside. - I don't understand when you get drunk. You don't seem to go to clubs anymore, but anyway.

\- Your onsen is serving beautiful sake.

I’ll make sure that you don’t get poured, - Yuuri goes to the window, just not to look into those turquoise eyes. Stupid. He does not know whether this connection works this way or whether it is in Victor himself, but he senses the presence of another person with every cell of his body. And no need to turn around. But they did not even activate the connection.

\- Do you write articles? Are you a journalist? - Yuuri winces and looks back at Victor. He casually sits on a chair and sorts out the notes left on the table. - And you do pretty well.

\- Yes there! Katsuki dismisses. The heart aches from unkind premonitions. Is this the conversation he was so afraid of and avoided? - So, sometimes I write for a local newspaper.

\- No, Yurui! - Victor runs his eyes over the spread out sheets. - You write very interestingly! You have a talent! I really wanted to visit this dog shelter. Can I get a dog? You know, I used to have a poodle. Makkachin was called.

\- I saw on Instagram. I'm sorry he died.

\- Yes, you are a stalker, Yuuri! Whatever I start telling you know! - Victor chuckles maliciously, and Yuri flashes a pink blush. - Well, since you are so knowledgeable, maybe you will tell me about the Gadfly?


	5. Chapter 5

Victor is drinking. Many and often. In bars and at home, alone and in company, after training and sometimes during. Yacov yells at him, Plisetskiy mournfully curls his lips. Victor doesn't care. He is tired. There is already no strength to put on another mask. Everyone saw everything like that: they took it out, shook out everything that was possible, examined it, mixed it with dirt, but it didn’t do it back. So he remained an empty shell, a monument to himself. You see - all the same Nikiforov, handsome and the dream of millions, but in the soul emptiness and ashes. And do not drown him already this longing for nothing. Even skating does not please, does not bring long-awaited relief. No, he rides beautifully, takes years with honed technique, but only, Vitenka, there is no soul. Boring, fresh, unemotional. And where is she to take this soul? If it crashed, it shattered into hundreds of pages of cheap news stories and commercials on the Internet. But Victor is strong, he can stand it. He smiles serenely, straightens his bangs and says that now he is a trainer, that he is acting in commercials, that he will create a clothing line. And smiles again. I wonder how many times he has to say that he is happy to believe himself? Here, the media believe, and he will. Someday. If earlier in the loop does not climb from such a happy life.

Loneliness. He himself did not think so alone. No, close friends remained, Yacov and Lily support, relatives. It's not that. Once again, Victor thinks about his soulmate, a soul mate. Who is he? Where does he live? And why not find, not contact? Squeamish? Thanks to the efforts of Gadfly, everyone has already seen his mark. And not only in Russia. A wacky anime heart is right over its present. Put your hand and you will feel how it knocks. You will feel the warmth and magnetism of communication. And Victor believes, believes and waits for his soulmate, with the despair of the condemned. Yes, only time passes, day after day, week to week. And nothing. Nothing. Not a sign, news from his soulmate. But Victor is smiling. Looks at a beaten dog, but smiles. And he believes, no matter what, because he feels.

He often has the same dream. Gray and faceless, like his life. Victor in a building, walks through countless classrooms and stairs: classrooms, conversations, papers, turns, classrooms. Either Feltsman shouts to him so as not to be late, then Plisetskiy weaves around, looks evil and is in love. Oh yes, Yurochka, we can see everything, but only Victor can’t deal with the whims of 16-year-old teenagers. Who would save himself. Sometimes he sees Aelita. She always calls him, beckons and seduces. And Victor really wants to agree, but he goes further. And suddenly he finds himself on a rocky shore. Sheer cliffs, sea and gulls. And Victor understands that here it is, the present. There is very little left. He stubbornly rises up the rocks, walks without feeling pain in tired wounded legs, clings to stones with his hands, tearing his skin into blood. But these are all such trifles! After all, upstairs he meets her, his soul mate. When the soul and heart are one for two. And Victor’s heart trembles because he already loves. With all the strength of my wounded heart. His soul mate stands above the cliff, wrapped in a dark long cloak. The wind shakes its floors, trying to tear it off, generously showers with myriads of salty spray. But Victor freezes, just cannot take his eyes off of love from all this beauty against the backdrop of a stormy sky, admires the beautiful lonely figure in the slanting rays of the setting sun. Then he approaches, gently, afraid to frighten off. And again it freezes at the distance of one step, one word, one sigh. Extend your fingers - and touch.

But he wakes up. And his soulmate is still close and far. Like all three years. Three damn years since his life flew into tartarars, and he met Gadfly. And Victor decides to act, find his soulmate. He apologizes to Jacob and gives him his students, the benefit for Plisetskiy is drawn up, it remains only to work out the technique.

And then flies to Japan. Because the chest has a kawaii heart, because there is sea and rocks, and because it pulls there. Arrives in Tokyo and settles in one of the hotels. And then he walks around the city, enters coffee shops, buys souvenirs in local shops. Admires the Pokémon parade, visits the Emperor’s palace and theater, takes pictures at Disneyland. But actually looking, looking, looking. At least something. But the connection is silent. Victor is desperate. Victor smiles radiantly on a photo on Instagram. Victor looks through the brochures in the hotel lobby and decides to visit the hot springs. Yu-topiya Akatsuki promises an unforgettable vacation and free dinners. Well, so be it.

Hatsetsu meets with damp and snow. Victor involuntarily freezes under a large sakura: a thin layer of snow covers the spreading branches, causing delicate petals to fall down in pink rain. "Fucked," Plisetskiy would say, and be right. That's just this fucking Nikiforov and so in life is enough. You can hand out handfuls.

The city is quite small and dull. Of the advantages, you can name the castle of Hasecu and the proximity of the sea. And the rink, of course. The most important and undeniable plus for Nikiforov. He rides here almost every day. The familiar smell of ice and the sounds of skate strokes soothe, give an imaginary feeling of confidence. And Victor calms down, glides on the ice, repeating elements of past programs, lets go of himself. It allows itself to become real, alive, even for a moment. Here, without spectators, judges, ratings, he allows himself to be natural and dream. A strange, unusual sense of calm penetrates every cell of his body, settling in the very depths of consciousness. Victor can not help himself, he is dreaming. Daydreaming at the rink, daydreaming in the onsen, daydreaming in the mornings on the embankment, while pedaling an old bicycle.

Hasecu. Maybe this city will be special for him? Who knows ...


	6. Chapter 6

\- About the Gadfly? - unwittingly asks Yuuri. He moves away from the window and sits opposite the blond. - Do you mind if I smoke? Stupid smoking habit when I write.

\- For me, you can even have a drink. I do not mind, - Victor imposingly stretches out on a chair, keeping his eyes on the Japanese.

\- I always noticed that you are an excellent coach. Are these character traits or are all Russians like that? - Yuuri drags on a cigarette. Life-saving smoke fills the lungs, inspiring confidence. And the fingers are not shaking so much now. - Why do you need it? And why are you here, Victor? You never told me. No, our sources are undoubtedly good, but not enough to exchange Tokyo or Kyoto for them.

\- Why am I here? He flew to Japan to look for his soulmate. Remember my painted heart? Perhaps this is not the right direction, but at least I started. I was in Tokyo, but nothing happened, not hooked. Then he saw a leaflet and came here. It's nice here. Awfully boring but cute.

The bluish cigarette smoke slowly creeps around the room, rising weightless clouds up, melts under the ceiling. Katsuki escorts him with his eyes - he was and is not. Like Victor in his life. Should he confess?

\- Are you leaving soon?

\- Perhaps. - Yuuri's heart skips a beat. Why fight in a world where there is no Victor? - Yuuri, don't look at me like that, I'm still here. You can even touch it.

Victor leans back in his chair, sending the Japanese a bewitching look. Funny yet this Katsuki. Like a Japanese casket with a secret. Everything seems to be simple, but you won’t open it right away. Goes all so ruffy, impregnable. Fenced off with his "hello-sorry-thanks" and you won’t get it. Yes, only Victor didn’t get those. And Yuuri can. Right here on the table, among his pieces of paper. Yes, only then there will be more problems than sense. Katsuki has big eyes and brown, naive. He needs love. And he, Nikiforov, would have sex. For a long time he was not tied, not punished. The Japanese will not pull this role, without options. Another bitter child on the neck of Nikiforov.

\- I kept wondering why to Hasecu. And now I understand. It's because of you, Yuuri, I'm here. It's all you.

\- I AM?..

\- Yes, you, Yuuri. You brought me here. Do you write? You must know something about Gadfly. Find him for me, please. I have to ... I want to meet him.

\- You have strange ideas about journalism, Victor. Do you exactly understand the meaning of the phrase "freelance correspondent in a mossy town"? Why me And why do you need a gadfly? What do you know about him?

The Russian gets up and starts nervously pacing the room. Will they help him?

\- A little bit. He is Japanese. Not listed in any newspaper, just sends his articles to the one who pays the most. He loves scandalous news. Sometimes it seems to me that he works in pairs. But I'm not sure. Too little information. It is difficult to look for a person whose job is to be inconspicuous. And with Japan it’s very tight. Here is the language barrier and the difference in mentality. I cannot find him alone.

Victor is always a lot. Too much for poor Yuuri. Shines like the brightest sun, scorching with its light, and you can’t hide. You will not hide anything; here they are, all the corners of his soul, memories that I would like to forget about forever. Yuri pulls into the far corner of the bed.

\- Victor, I am infinitely sorry what he did to you. If my apologies could fix anything, I would say them a thousand times. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But these are just words, Victor. They will not change anything. Because of the Gadfly, you had to leave the sport, your honor suffered. All these disgusting rumors ... I'm sorry.

\- Thank you, Yuuri. This is even unexpected. So worried about me? But do not, believe me. Yes, a career had to be completed. But this was the last season. Epic happened, is not it? Well, rumors ... Then it’s my own fault, what to blame on the Gadfly. Although they then nobly slammed mud, the magazines sat for several months under the windows and the articles were riveted, - the blonde involuntarily frowns at the last words, which Katsuki immediately notices.

\- I'm sorry!

\- But I will not forgive! - Victor, finally, stops pacing the room and, grabbing a cigarette pack from the table, settles down next to the brunette. - Seriously, Yuuri, how many times will you apologize? If I need an apology, then certainly not yours, but his. Or rather, he himself.

\- Why? Do you hate him like that?

\- I hate it? Hmm ... I'm afraid it's too big a word. - Nikiforov spins around and winks Yuuri mischievously. - And believe me, if I say that I want to see these legs again? We started something and did not finish with it.

\- I ... I don't understand ...

\- I want to fuck him. So understandable, my dear Yuuri?

Yuuri is shockedly silent. Victor just smokes. The silence in the room is stunning.

After another puff, Victor looks at the Japanese. He sits all red in the far corner of the bed, hiding behind a small decorative pillow. Nervously tugging at its edges in her hands. God! .. Is it really so bad with this Japanese? It seems like an adult independent guy, and behaves like a schoolgirl on a first date. Victor is even a little ashamed in front of Katsuki. Wanting to defuse the atmosphere, he continues:

\- Listen, Yuuri. Well, we are adults. I didn’t think that my words would have such an effect on you. Sorry, I will try to continue to be more careful with you. - Nikiforov gently picks up the pillow from Yuuri’s weakened fingers, squeezes thin hands, gently strokes, wanting to calm, inspire confidence. - You see ... I think he's my soulmate.

A weak moan breaks from Yuri's lips. The guy sighs convulsively, crouching his face with a red face on his knees, again fencing himself off from Victor. Damn it! Yuuri, you’re just an escape master! Now what's wrong?

\- I understand that sounds weird. It's ridiculous. I myself did not believe, Yuuri, I could not understand everything. These dreams, these feelings ... I do not know how to explain. It's just some kind of madness, an obsession ... And then - o-once! - and you cannot live without someone. No, you can live, but just not happy. And the sun does not warm and the grass does not turn green. Yuuri, do you have soulmate? - Weak affirmative nod. - Yes? .. I didn’t know ... But then you must understand me! Understand how I feel! It started three years ago. I then reacted to him. Thought, it seems to me, will pass. Well, the journalist fuck me, so I’m thinking about him. Аnyhow. I began to dream about it, can you imagine? I don’t remember his face, I don’t remember anything, and I dream of him. This is some kind of fucked up, Yuuri. From this connection I can neither breathe nor exhale. I love him. I have to find Gadfly! Will you help me

Yuuri looks into the sea-colored eyes fixed on him with a prayer and thinks that Nikiforov is more than ever right. It's just fucked up.


	7. Chapter 7

Victor Nikiforov is beautiful and gorgeous. Like a model with spreads of glossy magazines. Perfect. From the toes of leather shoes from Bruno Magli to silver cufflinks from Torrini. Victor loves to attract attention, catch the admiring glances of girls and guys. Is it all the same? Flattery is sweet in any form. Victor loves expensive items, branded accessories, exquisite furnishings and collection wines. Preferably from grapes harvested by the hands of virgins from the southern slope of Mount Olympus. Do not confuse with the north!

And now they are sitting in a luxurious and obscene expensive restaurant. Marble, gilding, reflections of lights in many large mirrors. Helpful and inconspicuous staff. The menu is expected to match the surroundings of the institution. Yuri trusts Victor.

Nikiforov sits opposite, smiles radiantly, burning his gaze with sky blue eyes.

\- Oh, Yuuri, you must see this! As a true Petersburger, I will tell you only one word - the Hermitage. Amazing, wonderful museum. And weeks will not be enough to get around it. One Egyptian hall is worth it! - Russian gracefully cracking down on beef medallions on his plate. Whatever you say, the meat here is beyond praise. - Have you seen the mummy of the ancient Egyptian priest Pa-di-ist? A statue of the goddess Mut-Sokhmet? Believe me, a most interesting sight.

Here it is. Detailed and informative. And you can’t say that now Yuri’s leg invisibly glides under the table along Nikiforov’s thigh line.

\- And the pictures? Just recall the Military Gallery! Three hundred and thirty-two magnificent portraits of the brush by George Dow. True assisted by Poles and Golike. It makes an impression.

And yet, Nikiforov's eyes change color slightly. Barely noticeable. A game of halftone, light and shadow. But Yuuri looks carefully, notices. He takes a sip of fine wine without breaking eye contact with the blond. Notices a pulsating wreath at the temple of the latter. Another sip, another sweet smile.

\- And you know, we also have a Japanese hall! - Victor puts his left hand under the table and deftly intercepts Yuuri's ankle. It doesn’t. Holds firmly and gently, caressing the arch of the feet with his fingers. - You should like it! The work of Yamagata Masatoda is impressive.

"No more than your skillful fingers on my ankle, my sweet, no more."

Another exchange of sugary smiles and beautiful empty words. Their personal game. And you won’t say that Yuuri is now wearing a leather sword belt under her clothes. Only the black choker on the neck is noticeable. What's on Victor is known only to Victor. There will be a mutual surprise.

And how did they get to this?

***  
From that night, when Victor came to him with a request to help find Gadfly, their relationship has changed. No, Nikiforov remained the same narcissistic seductive handsome man with a very vague concept of personal space. Yuuri has changed.

He could not fall asleep that night. He lay with his eyes fixed on the ceiling and wondered why Gadfly was loved more than him, Yuuri. Why Gadfly's legs are prettier than his. Why does Victor consider the journalist his soulmate, and he, Yuuri, does not notice his true one. Was this what he wanted when he fled Russia three years ago? He tried so hard to become inconspicuous that he lost himself in the maelstrom of gray everyday life, disappeared into this suffocating monotony. Victor says he suffers from communication. But does Yuri love and suffer less? Does he not lose his mind every day from the desire to cling to his soulmate, run his fingers into the silky platinum of his hair and freeze, interfering with one breath for two.

Yuuri walks around the onsen in a shirt. Long shirt to cover tag and short shorts. Victor wanted beautiful legs? Let him admire! Yuuri throws shapeless, plain-looking clothes out of her wardrobe. Nikiforov likes stylish tight-fitting clothes? Katsuki will wear one.

The Japanese often thinks that his soulmate is incredibly beautiful. One day, Yuuri involuntarily stares at how the first sun's rays play in platinum hair. Sun flares flare up brightly, giving Victor a very unreal look. Like an angel that came down to earth. Yuri’s heart involuntarily begins to beat more often, and her cheeks flash with a delicate blush.

But the Russian does not notice. He sits at the table, bowing his head low and clutching a large mug of aromatic coffee in his hands. All so sleepy and comfortable. Yuri walks by and, intentionally loudly banging the doors of the kitchen cabinet, starts making coffee for herself. After all, there is nothing surprising in the fact that he wanted coffee in this early hour. Oh, Victor is here? What a coincidence!

The brunette turns away to pour boiling water into a mug. But even with his back he feels the sticky gaze of icy-blue eyes sliding over his body. Nikiforov examines him from under long fluffy eyelashes and smiles slyly.

\- But did you decide to seduce me, Yuuri? - Victor nods in his direction. Katsuki returns a look full of sincere misunderstanding. Well, yes, on it is now the usual shirt, covering the mark and emphasizing the rounded strong buttocks. Who knew that Victor was in the kitchen now.

\- And even if you seduce? - Yuri arrogantly jerks her chin up. - We have different soulmates. You supposedly Gadfly, I have another guy.

Yuri takes another sip of black liquid, enjoying the astringent rich taste of coffee: - Bash to bash. I’m looking for your fellow believer, and you, in turn, help me overcome natural shyness and begin to communicate with soulmate.

The next sip of coffee fills the body with the long-awaited pleasant vigor, allowing you to throw off the last shackles of sticky sleep. Yuri licks her lips nervously.

\- Or are you afraid you won’t resist and fuck me? - words mockingly sound in addition to will.

\- No, why ... - Nikiforov thoughtfully turns a mug of coffee in his hands. Clockwise turnover, turnover against. - I'm a grown-up wealthy man, Yuuri. I can completely control myself. And you are not mature enough to seduce me. - a sardonic smile, lips curving. - My tastes are specific, you know. Then I don’t want to watch you shy away from me in the corners.

C'mon. Seriously, Nikiforov? Japanese sarcastically arches an eyebrow. Viktor meanwhile casually continues:

\- I'll fuck you, Yuuri. Required. Just as you never dreamed of, but only after you yourself ask me about it. Do you see my sweet little pig?

A cold sweat breaks through Brunet, and at one moment her legs become cottony, refusing to serve her master. In order not to fall, he is forced to grab the edge of the countertop, feeling with his shaking fingers the soothing cold of the stone.

\- So I ask?!.

Victor is silent for a while, continuing to smile thoughtfully. Then he takes another cookie from a plate and dips it in coffee. Yuri follows her gaze as she melts, dissolving into a hot drink in Victor's hands. Like Yuri, under the gaze of sky blue eyes.

\- You are again not thinking about that at all, the blond finally sighs. - I allow me to train. Any whim, Yuri, any whim, - in the eyes of Nikiforov - mischievous imps: - I don’t even know what affects me that way. Your wonderful eyes or this morning coffee?

Seduction is a skillful game for two. Exciting, exciting blood that makes you live and desire. Nikiforov absolutely does not mind playing it. Especially when an incredible Japanese with attractive eyes is at stake, the color of dark chocolate.

Yuuri slowly approaches Victor, picks up the mug, provocatively touching her long thin fingers, takes a sip:

\- Mm ... Tasty! Whatever it is - a great choice. You will not regret it.

And he leaves, invitingly wagging his hips. Not Aelita yet, but still.

***

Victor is happy. A strange unexpected feeling settles in his chest, filling the gray life with long-forgotten emotions. I want to create something again, to create, to feel alive. And Nikiforov creates the only way he knows. Daily polishes the mirror surface of the ice rink with strokes of gold skates. Fourth flip, lutz and axel. Track of steps. Everything is easy as never before. As if wonderful wonderful music pervades his whole body, making the already silent strings of the soul sound. Victor’s body itself becomes this beautiful melody. He rolls elements of old programs and comes up with a new one. The one that he will dance for only one person - his soulmate. It will be their story. Bitter and desirable, bright and incredible. True

Russian is honing every element of his recognition on ice; he is more confident than ever. Everything is perfect. Rejoice, Judges! Victor decides to show this program to Yuri. The reaction of the Japanese seems to him incredibly important. One of the days he calls Katsuki to the rink, coming up with some kind of insignificant occasion. And then it shows the program. Rolls away like a goddess, with all the quarters and cascades. And the crown flip - a cherry on the cake.

Yuuri freezes a lone figure in the shadow of the rink, frantically clinging to a plastic side. Was he thinking about this when he agreed to go to the rink with Nikiforov in the morning? Did you know what he would stand here, completely lost in the crazy whirlwind of feelings and emotions that Victor had brought down on him with his confession? His soulmate, his soul, his love in gold skates. Unable to cope with the surging emotions, he jumps out onto the ice and hangs on Nikiforov’s neck, dropping large peas of tears on the lapels of his shirt. Blond is discouraged by such a reaction. For a few short moments, he simply looks at Yuuri, and then timidly hugs him, wanting to calm him down. And these minutes seem to Victor incredibly correct: to stand in the middle of the rink like this, clutching Yuuri’s fragile shoulders in his hands. Dear, dear Yuuri ...

And Yuuri is grateful. I am grateful for all these new timid feelings to the new open Victor. He goes to the orphanage he recently wrote about and selects a charming coffee-colored puppy. Nikiforov never talks about the deceased Makkachin, but Yuri often notices a slight shadow in his blue eyes, a thin transverse wrinkle on his high forehead. Brunet tremulously presses his gift to his chest, and thinks that Victor will also not be able to resist these devoted button eyes.

The response of his soulmate is still slightly above expectations. Nikiforov in everything. He presses the puppy to his chest, kisses his wet nose, lifts him high in his arms so that everyone can see this miracle. And strokes again, hugs and kisses. Jokingly blows into the nose, causing the puppy to grunt, and declares that this is the best gift in his life.

Victor puts the puppy on the floor and turns to Yuri. Yuri is drowning in the radiant gaze of heavenly azure, and Victor is hugging him tightly, exhaling in his neck "Thank you!" They freeze in this moment, enjoying an incredible sense of intimacy. Warm, cozy and already dear Victor. How pleasant it is to stand in his arms, with his forehead buried in his collarbone, listening to the deaf, measured beats of his beloved heart!

Victor does not stand the first. Hands are demandingly shifted to the waist of the Japanese, instantly turning an innocent hug into a passion-pierced intimacy. Victor slides hot, dry lips around his neck, bites his earlobe, exhales something in Russian, bites his lips into a pulsating wreath on his neck. Surely there will be a hickey. As a mark, a sign that it now belongs to Victor. Should Yuri object? Pull away? Not this time, oh no! Katsuki only throws back his head, opening his neck for new caresses. What does the blond immediately use, showering patches of delicate skin with many short, sweet kisses. Mind-blowing kisses. Yuuri feels how his legs are treacherously bent, it remains only to cling to Nikiforov’s saving strong shoulders. Kisses, kisses, kisses ... How far will they go today? How far does Yuuri allow herself to go?

They are interrupted by the resounding barking of Mackey number two, which rushes around their legs, persistently attracting attention. Cute, charming baby!

That evening, Yuuri closes in the room, takes a picture of the mark and sends Victor on behalf of Gadfly with an offer to meet in Kyoto in a week.


	8. Chapter 8

He casts a nervous, evaluative glance toward the large mirror located on the ground floor of the prestigious hotel. Reflection shows a tall thin brunette with a thick shock of curly hair in a short gold dress. Sequins flash with hundreds of lights, reflecting the electric light of the lamps, which makes soft, barely noticeable glare play on the skin. Not too frankly? Will Viktor like it? The gadfly glances over his face, checking to see if the arrows are smeared. Bright catchy makeup completely complements the image. Girl for an hour? Night fairy Elite prostitute ... It's no secret to anyone why he is here. With a graceful movement, he throws the chestnut strand from his face, licks his bright red lips and looks at the business card. "2500" is reported by beautifully derived gilded figures. Suite? The corner of the mouth involuntarily twitches down. As expected, Nikiforov, as expected. However, the image of the Gadfly does not shine with originality today. Their roles have long been identified and scheduled. It remains only to play this farce.

He turns around and goes to the elevator. Confidently and slowly, seductively wagging hips. The fabric of the dress glides along the stocking smoothly and the measured sound of high heels spreads across the hall. Several lusty glances immediately glance at the back. Naive, lustful fools! They know that such a sweetie is not for them. All that remains for them is what to watch. He pauses for a while, waiting for the elevator, casts a mocking look at his brown eyes back. Today it will belong to only one man. To the best.

"2500" modestly says a silver plate on a wooden door. He freezes for a moment, unable to control the surging excitement. The heart is beating furiously in the chest, beating with a pulse in the temples. There is a cowardly thought to quit and run away. He still has such an opportunity. He will later say that the car broke down, did not have time. But who knows what could be ?!

He knocks on the room. Three short strokes on a smooth surface break the silence of the corridor.

Or maybe they are not waiting for him? Suddenly he is not here?

Moments later, Victor opens the door. It freezes in the aperture, burning through the look of gray-blue eyes. Slowly glancing over the body, starting from expensive shoes, crawling up graceful legs, lingering on his chest, and finally stopping on his face, meeting with eyes the color of milk chocolate. A slight smile touches the lips of the blond, making Gadfly's heart beat again furiously.

\- Well? And what are we worth? Tell me what you didn’t expect, - Gadfly pushes Victor away and goes into the room.

But not bad here. It is in the style of Nikiforov. Candles, a bouquet of red roses, champagne is cooled in a bucket. The reddish glare of the electric fireplace complements the surroundings, dispelling the light twilight of the room. The gadfly confidently passes to the large double bed (thank God, although it is not strewn with rose petals) and, having thrown the purse on it, it sits down with its legs crossed. Victor wanted his legs? Let him look!

If Nikiforova and unnerving what is happening, then this does not affect him. He closes the door and walks to the table, politely wondering: - Champagne?

A bottle of dark green glass peeks out of a bucket. Champagne has always been liked by Gadfly: bright solar bubbles amusingly burst on the tongue, filling the body with lightness and confidence. Confidence, perhaps, is not enough for him now. He drains the glass handed out to him in a couple of sips. It may not look very aesthetically pleasing, but Gadfly doesn't care. He again holds out an empty glass to Victor. He, only shaking his head disapprovingly, fills him again.

\- Рrivet, solnyshko!

\- Do you know Russian?

\- Three years ago, I started teaching when I found out that you were my soulmate.

\- Originally you meet soulmate, you will not say anything.

\- We all have the soulmates we deserve. - Gadfly changes the position of his legs, casting a mocking glance at Victor. Argue that it turned out better than in "Basic Instinct"?

\- God!.. - Victor sighs, - Аnd why did I get you so handsome! - a charming smile slides over the lips of a blond.

Victor sits in a wide chair, casually stretching out his legs and crossing his arms over his chest. The white silk shirt is not fully buttoned, provocatively flaunting the bend of the neck and sharp protrusions of the clavicle. A long light bangs falls on the face, making it difficult to look into the eyes. The brunette desperately wants to get up, go up and take aside. Touch with your fingers chiseled cheekbones, draw a strong-willed chin, go over the sweet curve of the lips. Does he now have the right to do this?

Victor's voice breaks out of his thoughts: - By the way, how to contact you? Aelita? Gadfly? Maybe there’s a couple more names in store. - Nikiforov twitches his shoulders in exasperation. - Sorry. I'm not so fast, I can also miss something.

\- Gadfly. I think it will be right. He began this, to him, that is, to me, and to answer.

Sore throat from surging emotions. It seems that you can not utter a word. The guy clears his throat and stands in front of Nikiforov. This moment has come.

\- Victor! It’s my fault! I don’t know if you can ever forgive me. It’s my fault, the cause of all your misfortunes. Because of me, you had to go through all this horror, to leave sports. I do not know if there are words that would justify me. What is done is done. I did not know then that you are my kindred, the mark appeared later. But this does not justify me! If only I knew that everything would end like this! With my own hands ... I'm sorry, I'm sorry ... If necessary, I will say it a thousand times. Just give us a chance, I beg. I ... don't want to lose you. Please! ..

\- Great! And on your knees can you?

The guy blinks nervously in surprise. He looks perplexedly at Nikiforov and, grabbing another glass from the table, sighs in dismay.

\- I can do it on my knees, - he agrees, sitting down on Victor's knees. Having sipped a glass, jokingly runs them on the lips of a blond, weaves his fingers into silky hair, forcing the Russian to throw his head back and look only at him. - From what moment do you repeat? Any desire, Victor, any desire, - he exhales hoarsely in his desired lips.

What did Victor say about seduction? A game for two? Oh well…

Brunette a little Jesuit on her knees, trying to sit better. The indecent short dress rises even higher, exposing the beautiful legs in stockings. What Victor uses right there. One hand rests on his waist, and the second shamelessly glides over the thighs of others under the fabric of the dress. The gadfly feels light passionate stroking of strong fingers on bare skin on the border of lace stockings. Seductive. Provocatively. And madly nice.

\- Any desire, you say? ..

Nikiforov gently runs a hand over his body and suddenly pulls his hair, tearing off his wig and throwing it to the side. Shuffles his hair.

\- So I like it better.

\- Yeah. And I’ll put on glasses - will you finish in your pants?

A light slap on the fifth point is probably the answer.

\- Show me your mark.

\- Will you help to remove the dress?

A long zipper is located on the back. Do not get it. Not that Yuri was planning to take it off himself ... Victor easily nods and reaches out to lightning. Katsuki feels weightless exciting touches to his neck. The fabric of the dress is pulled a little and immediately creeps down. Victor undresses him slowly, leisurely. Centimeter by centimeter exposing graceful shoulders. Finally, the movement of the tissue stops. The young man feels the burning gaze of azure eyes in the chest area. More precisely, on the left chest, where the heart is.

Yuuri sits with her eyes closed. It’s too scary for him to look at his soulmate now. All feelings are sharpened to the limit, his body is one bare nerve. He feels a hot, lost breath on his mark, feels the timid, timid touch of his fingertips. Is Victor afraid?

\- This is amazing ... Incredible ... - Nikiforov's voice breaks. - How I wanted it to be you! .. I would die if it were someone else. I believed! My sweet, beloved Yuuri! ..

Victor pokes his chest, clutching tightly in his arms. Freezes. Yuri is hurt, but he is ready to sit forever. Eternity in the arms of Nikiforov. Can there be anything more beautiful? Heart to heart, soul to soul.

\- And you? Will you show me your mark?

His fingers tremble finely as he unfastens the buttons of someone else's shirt. A button after a button, a convulsive breath, and here Yuuri sees a kawaii heart. Their common heart. Warm and lively. The finger pads tingles slightly when it touches the mark. Incredible! .. Suddenly, Yuuri leans in and kisses the mark, tearing off a hoarse, painful moan from Nikiforov's lips. Did he do something wrong? Does it hurt? Frightened, Katsuki blows at the mark.

\- Fuck, Yuuri! .. Do you want my death?

And before the guy manages to answer or even think something, the blue-eyed jerks him abruptly, clutching him to the groin, and carries him away for a long kiss. Victor demandingly runs his tongue over his lips, forcing him to go inside. Slides along the gums, caresses the palate and again captures his tongue. Short sucking movements. Everything is very clear. Yuri completely loses her head from these kisses. Involuntarily, he arches and spreads his legs wider. Victor slides a hand over his hips, touches a swollen cock, strokes his buttocks. Yuri wants more. A small tremor breaks through the body, and short voluptuous groans break from her lips. Will Victor help him? Yuuri tightly clasps other people's hips, feeling the blond's fingers penetrate him, gently stretching. Even lubrication is not necessary. Yuri returns to the soulmate a lustful kiss: he digs into other people's sweet lips, asking for continuation, as if his life depends on it.

Suddenly Victor pulls away. Long fingers hold his chin, and blue eyes look with a question.

\- Yuuri ... do you remember? .. you have to ask me.

Yuuri absolutely does not understand what Victor is talking about. What should he ask for? Instead of an answer, he again reaches for his desired lips. But Nikiforov again pulls back, causing an irritated moan of the Japanese. Victor easily picks up Yuuri and leads to the mirror.

\- Tell me ...

Like a snake tempter. Words sweet honey entwine him, causing only one desire - to obey. Yuuri looks in the mirror, freezing from the picture. He stands half-naked in Victor's arms. Disheveled hair, red kissed lips, black eyes burning with lust ... A lowered dress dangles on the hips, not hiding the boner at all, wrinkles crumpled, allowing you to see the black lace stocking.

Victor’s hands hold tight, forcing him not to look away. Katsuki feels his hot, burning breath on his neck. Does Victor feel the same? The hot fire of desire. After all, they are a single whole, soulmates. The heart beats furiously in the chest, the skin under the mark burns with fire, sending waves of desire throughout the body. Can Yuuri stand up to this? It flares up and burns in this flame of irresistible desire and lust. Yuri brings her arms back and pulls Victor, forcing him to bend lower.

\- Take me.

Words sound so right and natural. Victor takes it here, in front of the mirror. It is driven in by sharp passionate tremors, entering immediately at full length. Yuuri likes it. He groans loudly, snuggling closer, revealing himself to Victor.

Victor, Victor, Victor ... burns on his skin. Victor, Victor, Victor ... beats in the temples. And how could he have been a lot of Victor before? Now it is unbearably small. I want now and everything. So that to the last drop, all of him and only him. Yuri does not intend to share. Do not ask.

An orgasm covers them at the same time, knocking out thousands of bright sparks in front of the eyes and tearing off hoarse moans from torn lips. Like the birth and death of hundreds of galaxies under the skin, like the bright fire of a supernova - you can’t hide, you just have to burn, settling in the white ashes of love.

Then they lie in bed. Victor affectionately intertwines their fingers, gently kisses the knuckles, easily runs his lips along the pattern of veins.

\- I love you, Yuri! My beautiful, gentle Yuuri! .. My and only mine ...

Yuuri responds with a light, gentle kiss. It snuggles even closer, breathing in the sweet scent of soulmate skin.

\- I love you, Victor!

Then, Yuuri pulls back, reaches out to her purse and takes out a small box of blue velvet.

\- I love you, Victor! - He repeats again. A brunette could say these words a thousand times. To hoarseness, to a torn voice. Every day of his new life with Victor.

Yuuri opens the box: two golden rings glisten matte in the twilight of the room. He takes Victor's hand, gently strokes and puts on the ring.

\- Victor! Accept this ring, our symbol of love and unity, my promise to you that I will never leave you. Until the last breath, until the last beat of the heart, I am all yours. Now and forever. I love you.

Nikiforov listens to him, bowing his head low, hiding his eyes behind the platinum of his long bangs. When he looks up, Yuuri sees the wet paths of tears on her cheeks. He takes the second ring and puts it on the beloved's hand.

\- Yuuri! My sweet, beloved Yuuri! Incredible Yuuri! .. I love you! .. Loved when I saw there in the St. Petersburg bar, loved when you were hiding from me on the ryokan, loved when you decided to seduce me when I watched my dance on ice. It was always you. - Victor accompanies each word with Yuri's kiss. Light weightless scattering on your favorite cheeks, lips, in the corners of the eyes. - Take this ring as my promise to you. The promise to be always there, to love and to protect. Until the last breath, until the last beat of the heart. Together and forever. I love you.

They again twist their hands, admiring the warm glow of gold on their fingers. Together and forever.

**Author's Note:**

> And hello to the classics!  
"Aelita" A.N. Tolstoy, "Gadfly" E.L. Voynich


End file.
